The Light Lord
by TheBlueLooper
Summary: Harry becomes... The Light Lord in this crazy, whacky, insane fanfictional universe. Everything is warped. And when I say everything, I mean, the timeline, the original universe, the trademarked terms of HP, and the very war itself. This will be a saga.


**AN: No clue what this is. I think it turned into a parody of canon and fanon. But maybe it's just a seriously misunderstood dramatic comedy. I don't know. Just read and review. **

**It's meant to be wierd, stupid, satirical, mental, nonsensical, pointless, pointy, happy, sad, and a lot of other things.**

**Chapter summary: Harry's first day of summer, Muggle news, one genital wart, trash cans, Life Eaters, Fanfictional Universe, the Author, Super!Harry, Zzznape, Ron, Trevor the Cool Toad, and...**

**The Light Lord**

Harry Potter _hated _a lot of things. One of those was summer vacation.

It was the first day of summer break. The Dursleys had already bitched and hollered and threw a shoe at his nose. Dudley didn't partake in this though; he was too busy cowering and weeping hysterically in Harry's presence. Every now and then, he'd grab his arse, too.

Because his previous cover of flower gardens had been found and Petunia had laced the plant growth with cyanide in case Harry ever tried to hide in them again, Harry had to hide behind trash cans now. Besides, he hated listening to Muggle news with his aunt and uncle. They always made annoying comments that would disrupt Harry's importantly profound thinking. Like…

"Now, from Staffordshire, Stew Pid Freek reports to us with live footage of the Eat Grass Tournament of a century—"

"Petunia, this country is going to the dogs!"

"Vernon, eat this spotted dick, dear."

"Such dodgy business, I say."

10 seconds later…

"Bloodee Hore from the German city of Hamburg and is here to tell us about Asian dances and how they are taking over the world…"

"Petunia, this world is going to the dogs!"

"Vernon, eat this plum pudding, dear."

Less than 5 seconds later…

"Astrophysicist Wanna Wank Whitney tells us that the scientific community of Morocco is in absolute, soul-wrenching tears, because they have just learned that this universe is expanding. Before our very own bleeding eyes, America is aiming a bazooka right at the center of the uni—"

"Petunia, this univer—"

"Shove this (insert gross British dessert) down your fat throat, dear."

Aside from Vernon's commentary, Harry hated Vernon's throat. Such beefiness, but not in the least bit like beef jerky. It was atrocious to Harry.

Harry had abandoned finding any detail about the Magical community through Muggle news, because as it turns out, Muggle news is useless. Such uselessness, but not in the least bit like other useless things like dry-cleaning, bagel bites, and legally downloaded music. Harry was going to have to add it to his Hate List.

Muggle news actually unearths nothing big. Unless you count finding a thumb-sized genital wart on the Prime Minister's nose news-breakingly big… Well, Harry supposed you might be interested in learning how a clinically diagnosed genital wart got on his nose… Harry laughed.

Then in a wildly bipolar moment, he brooded. Ron would've loved talking about this. Surely this was one of those Uranus moments. Harry missed Ron.

Harry morosely dragged a steel trash can down the street. He needed it so that he could find some place to hide sinisterly. As he went by, he wasn't affected by the loud scrapping of metal on concrete. Or how cars that drove by yelled out things like "Psychopath" or "You're a wet pussy, man" or "Crazy, motherfucking, cock sucking, four-eyed, dorky, shabbily dressed, bloody wankaholic." He wasn't even affected by how neighbors would politely open the window and yell for him "to stop being a malignant cancer on society."

Harry certainly hated being treated like shit. But it's been happening in the first six books, so why not go all out 'till the end?

Then he stopped dragging his trash can, because he heard a noise that was like a pop. And he kind of heard a swish-and-flick followed by an "_Avada Kedavra_, bitch." Harry wasn't sure, but he took out his wand just to be on the safe side.

Harry carefully snooped around him and nearly jumped when someone spoke.

"Potter, you twit. We're behind you."

Harry turned around and saw Draco Malfoy and a horde of Slytherins pointing their wands at him and whispering their own separate _Avada Kedavra_s at him. Harry stared. None of their wandwork seemed to be working.

"Rats," Malfoy finally said. "Okay, everybody stop. It's obviously not working."

"Draco, maybe we should just kick him," Pansy Parkinson purred. Harry hated alliteration.

"In the place where sun don't shine?" another stupid girl, Harry presumed to be a friend of Pansy's, asked. Her question offended Harry. Highly. She was assuming he had a pale white bum.

"The sun does shine there occasionally, thank you very much," he called out. All the Slytherins abruptly stopped swishing-and-flicking.

"Potter, you don't," Malfoy made a face and continued "you don't actually sunbathe… naked?"

The entire group and Harry collectively shuddered. Upon seeing Harry shake his head to give the negative, they all collectively sighed in relief.

Harry decided that he should keep the conversation light and casual. It was time to dig into his Super-Sleuth-Slytherin moves.

"So why are you here and why did you try to kill me?"

The Slytherins all looked worriedly at each other and with anxious, wide-eyed eyes, they turned to their ringleader, Malfoy.

"Obviously Potter, this was another stupid attempt to end your life. As the Dark Lord ordered obviously."

Harry hated it when people said words like 'obviously.' Seriously. He made sure his voice belayed his irritation when he grumbled out "that was such a poor attempt, Malfoy. I didn't even get stabbed with a dagger and there were no Wiccan rituals or suspicious portkeys of some sort and nobody, NOBODY, has tried to use my saving-people thing against me yet."

Malfoy nodded his head grimly. "I know. But what else was I going to do? Send you a necklace that kills you at its touch? Poison your alcohol? Honestly, what idiot would do any of those!"

Harry considered this for a moment. "You're right, Malfoy. All of those other plots are so… assuming and typical. I never would've anticipated this."

"So bad and idiotic, that it's almost good. It also funks with the timeline. You're always attacked at the end of every school year, never at the beginning of the summer."

"Not true. A dementor attacked me once."

"No, no. You're mistaken. That was actually a tangent universe. It never _really_ happened."

Harry was suddenly very frightened. The strangest, most bizarro, worst thought popped up in his mind like a tumor. "I'm not—I'm not Donnie Darko, am I?"

The Slytherins all laughed heartily.

"No, don't worry. This isn't a crossover universe. You're still Harry Potter," Zabini answered.

"But the timeline is all… wonky. I'm supposed to be turning seventeen and I've got horcruxes to hunt for. So why is Dobby and that black dog over there—" Harry pointed to the black dog named Snuffles "following me. They were supposed to stalk me years ago."

Snuffles mysteriously stared at Harry and the Slytherins. Suddenly, the sun dropped down and the moon popped up, and the nearby children's park started making theatrical scary noises. Then, in an instant, Snuffles disappeared. A small house-elf than ran quickly across the street, dropping a tea cozy behind and then rushed back to get it. Dobby looked up at all the people witnessing him, and he quickly made a dash to get behind some shrubbery. Then the sun and moon switched places, and all the teenagers exchanged weirded-out looks.

"See?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Listen, Potter, that's because this isn't JK Rowling's world, Potter. Welcome to Fanfiction." Zabini gave him a smile that was actually a grimace that was actually a scowl that was actually a grin that was actually no expression at all. Slytherins are too misunderstood and inexpressive to be properly described.

Harry thought he misheard Zabini. Which is funny, because usually he had perfect hearing. "Uh, okay?" he said, looking skeptical.

Zabini, fed up with idiots, said "he doesn't understand it. Malfoy, you explain."

Malfoy stepped forward and a spotlight fell on him and accentuated his beautiful facial features. It was at that precise moment Harry understood what Fanfiction did. But he let Malfoy speak on so that the reader would keep up at the same pace.

"Basically, in Fanfiction, trademark characters are warped and molded into other forms and used in entirely new plots. The most common abuse is making all the teenage characters hot, gorgeous, beautiful, hot, hot, hot sex deities. Unfortunately, this fanfictional universe isn't going to let all of us sexually frustrated male characters fuck all the female leads."

Harry pouted. That was so unfair.

"I agree, Potter. But it seems as if for this particular story, everything in this fanfictional universe is going to be really confused and nothing will fit in the proper timeline. All the facts as given in canon are actually disordered in this universe. Familiar names and places are going to be muddled with. For all you and I know, you could be your own mother and die before you were born."

"So, is this going to be a serious fanfiction?"

"No, I think this is just going to be a crazy, drainpipe world. A parody of canon Harry Potter and fanon Harry Potter. A parody of parodies and comedies even. I think that the Author just feels bored and wants to write something stupid."

"Will there be sex?"

Malfoy looked up at the heavens as if expecting an answer. Then, he turned back to Harry and gave the affirmative nod. Harry went ecstatic. He'd been a virgin in JK Rowling's world for far too long. Finally, some reprieve.

Harry liked the idea of this fanfictional universe.

"Okay, tell the Author that I am a willing participant."

Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the spot two inches besides Harry. Harry screamed "fuck!"

A thunderous voice growled. "I am the Author. I will not put myself in this fanfictional universe, but be warned, any loose comment against me, and you will be mangled!" echoed a cackle.

Suddenly, the lightning stopped. The sky was blue again and canaries chirped merrily.

"Let the adventure begin, I guess," Harry said a bit unenthusiastically.

So, the Slytherin characters and Harry all waited while a big black and white clapboard attached to a giant human hand Apparated with a cracking pop and a mysterious voice called out, "Harry Potter the Light Lord; scene 1; take number 256… Action!"

And then they just resumed their stupidity. Harry wiggled off that strange feeling of being in a fake world with a fake fanfictional life. Hopefully, later, he'd wake up from this whimsical dream.

Although Harry's acting skills were poor (and it showed like a B-rated soap opera actor's), everyone pretended to be in JK Rowling's real universe. So Harry coughed and then said "So how come your scheme to kill me failed so miserably your father will probably disown you?"

Malfoy, whose acting skills were loads better said, "Actually, it was Pansy's fault. She said the Killing Curse would work."

"What, can't you muster up enough hatred to perform a proper Unforgivable?" Harry taunted meanly. Malfoy felt ashamed of himself. He cowered away into the comfort of the shadows.

"Hey, leave him alone," Zabini sturdily held their ground. "We practiced on Crabbe before we came. It worked then."

"I don't get it, to be honest," Malfoy said, his blonde eyebrows scrunched in thought. "I know I can do a really terrific Killing Curse. But… but it's like you're indestructible or something."

"I've got more than nine lives. I'm like a Siamese cat or the Titanic," Harry said in sage agreement.

"The Titanic hit an iceberg and sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean in 1914. Its last journey across the icy waters has been known to be one of the biggest tragedies in the Muggle industrial era," Goyle barked out like a machine. All looked shocked. Malfoy looked proud as well.

"He can read," he said, patting his friend appreciatively on the back. "He's absolutely exceptional now."

Harry, knobby kneed and scrawny and physically useless without a broomstick, glared at the big, bodily harmful Goyle. "I am indestructible. Do not mess with me," he threatened while jabbing a hard finger at Goyle's gut. Goyle winced and nodded his head frantically.

Suddenly Harry was hit with an idea. What if he threatened people to go to the good side? What if he set the flame of fear in their hearts? He was indestructible now. Like a videogame hero in super duper x-x-x-x-xtreme mode. Invincible to the max. He was Superhero Harry.

His green eyes, arguably green with Machiavellian intent now, surveyed his targets. They stepped back in unison because some small part in them instinctively knew Harry had just had a marvelous idea and it'd probably backlash against them.

"Listen up, bitches. I'm indestructible. I'm your fucking Light Lord. Respect now!" Harry ordered. They immediately dropped to one-knee poses and bowed their heads.

Satisfied, Harry felt the warmth of satisfaction satisfy his typically insatiable self. It was a satisfactory feeling. He was dwelling in the beauty of pure unadulterated power, reveling in its icy, corrupt, evil love, bathing himself in its awesomeness… Harry hated descriptions, but didn't want to stop in case the Author killed him.

Anyway, the irrefutable point is that Harry felt powerful. He had a peculiar urge to scream out "the power of the sun rests in the palm of my hand" or a variant of "I've got the whole wide world in my back-pocket/hands/demonic-control," but Spiderman villains were so last-year.

"From this day forth, you will be a legion of followers who obey my whims and fancies. You are my sons and daughters, and you will join the Order of the Phoenix." Harry finished his draining speech, and smiled jovially at the band of Slytherins. He mimicked Dumbledore and began to twinkle his eyes at them. It was very alluring and mysterious.

The Slytherins, of course, obeyed him out of fear and respect. Though Harry hated it when his uncle was right, Harry knew Dumbledore was a crackpot old fool. Only fear and respect can intimidate people. Love can't even wash the dishes.

But Goyle stayed back. "But sir, does this mean, we're now… Life Eaters?" he asked timidly.

Harry considered this for a moment. "Yes, I think," he said somewhat unsurely. He never quite understood the name 'Death Eaters.' Eating death was a good thing, wasn't it? You'd be eradicating death through digestion. So eating life would be bad—but they, Harry the Light Lord and Dumbledore's minions, were all good. Such a quandary. Goyle thought so, too.

"But Eating Life is wrong, sir, and we're supposed to be the righteous side," Goyle continued.

"Goyle, if you shut up, I'll let you fornicate with Pansy and you can sell sex tapes—"

"No, no, that's Paris Hilton. Pansy is an entirely different girl."

Harry was confused. "What? Really? I always thought they were the same person…" Harry then turned to the reader of this fanfiction. "I'm terribly sorry for accidentally putting in a Paris insult. I know they're so old and boring and unoriginal. It was an accident. It'll never happen again." And the Author intends to keep this promise.

Goyle kept silent. He thought it was best to keep respectful silence. Harry finally continued after scratching his head, and thinking about how confusing life got when you lived in the Muggle world and the Magical world.

"Okay, Crabbe—"

"Goyle," the big guy corrected.

"Goyle, because of your unusual show of intelligence, I'm going to… give you Dudley, my cousin. Let him be a guinea pig in your Magical experiments. Think of it as… a gift that people in authority only give to their favorites," Harry finished wisely.

"Thank you, sir."

"No problem."

So all the Slytherins who were once Death Eaters were now Life Eaters. They obeyed their Light Lord, Harry Potter, and immediately flooed to Dumbledore's office to register in the Order. However, some tangent universe dictated that Dumbledore had been murdered by a hunky man named Zzznape so the Slytherins went to McGonagall instead.

Thousands of miles away from Harry, the Slytherins lined up in front of McGonagall and made Unbreakable Vows.

Draco Malfoy, though still black hearted and completely unredeemed, put his right hand on his heart and said, "I, Draco XyzliasphineasMinnyMouseKooDangerdogZonius Malfoy, am now a believer and follower of the Order of the Phoenix. I swear I'm not going to be a traitor like Zzzeverus "the walking dick" Zzznape and Peter "the universal pansy-arsed poof in all of Harry Potter Fanfiction" Pettigrew. Even though I am a Slytherin, I will not resort to my evil, wicked, nefarious, evil ways. I hate the Dark Lord. Fuck him. I love Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and the rest (in a completely platonic way though)."

The other Slytherin Life Eaters said this oath as well. It was a joyous occasion. Harry wished he could've been there. But he was too busy turning his Aunt Marge into a giant hot air balloon, killing a basilisk in his basement, winning the Eat Grass Tournament of a century, getting stuck in Narnia, going back to the dungeon of Fourth Privet Drive, and being rescued from his barred windows by Ron and a retarded flying rainbow toad that was suspiciously named Trevor.

And that was just the first day of summer break. Wait until you see what happens on the second day.

**AN: I'm continuing even if you hate it. SO BOOYEAH! Reviewing would be nice of you.**


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